


Roadster vs. Fullmetal

by sainnis



Series: Fellowes Mews [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:04:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed has an unfortunate run-in with the car.  Roy has to take care of his bodyguard.    </p>
<p>The second story in the Fellowes Mews series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roadster vs. Fullmetal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyagosstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/gifts).



> Written for and beta-ed by nyagosstar, who asked for a story with a head wound.

Looking back, the only thing he would have changed was the cat. Not that it had been his idea in the first place. He wasn’t really a pet kind of person, and frankly, he already had a Prime Minister to take care of. The fault really lay with Al, but Ed had been unable to blame him for anything since he was twelve. Al’s cat had gone and gotten herself knocked up, and then there were kittens, and not even Roy Mustang could turn his nose up at a homeless kitten. 

The security rules at Fellowes Mews Manor weren’t always easy to follow. Yes, the protocols for visitors were thorough, and yes, Ed was possibly a little fanatical about the guards’ rotation, but one rule was designed with idiots in mind: keep the damn door shut and locked. It was so simple that even Brosch could remember it. That day, someone forgot. And, that day, the damn cat ran out the door.

As Ed came down the stairs, a streak of gray rushed by his ankles, and he realized too late that the cat was already out the door. Two guards stood outside, and both reacted as the cat ran between them.

“Catch it, you assholes!” he shouted through the glass.

Ed sighed, yanking his shirt over his chest. It wasn’t enough that he had to keep the leader of Amestris alive and happy; he was now a pet-sitter to boot. He made a mental note to find a peon in the lowest ranks of the army who could pass clearance to take on the position. Running out the door, he scanned the circular drive, looking for any sign of movement. There he was, the stupid little shithead, licking his paws as he sat in a grassy circle inside the drive. 

He squinted, took a breath, and then sprinted down the steps, across the drive, and scooped up the cat, who yowled in protest. 

Except not really.

Instead of actually making it across the drive, Ed was struck by Havoc, driving the Roadster at approximately twenty miles an hour, and he flew about ten feet through the air until he crashed to the driveway. He was conscious long enough to notice the cat was now licking its tail, not interested in him in the least.

***

The voices came through first. Havoc kept saying ‘Oh God,’ and Roy kept saying his name. He opened his eyes, wondering for a moment why he was sprawled in the driveway. 

Havoc’s hands were pressed up against his own throat. “Ed! Ed! Oh my God! I didn’t see you!” 

Roy gestured wildly at Havoc to shut him up. “Ed, can you move?”

Ed blinked up at him, and then slowly began testing his limbs. Something had hit him. He flexed his fingers and toes, automail and flesh. His chest hurt, and his head felt like someone had rammed a spike through it, but his arms and legs, for what they were, were intact.

Something pressed hard against his temple, and he grimaced, trying to push it away. 

“You’re bleeding,” Roy said. “We called Al. He’s on his way.”

Ed sighed. “Can I at least get out of the driveway?”

“He said not to move you.”

“I’m not paralyzed.”

“I think I’ll let him decide.” 

Smoke wafted into his nostrils, and he turned his head painfully to see Havoc using the embers of his last cigarette to light a new one. “Havoc, it’s okay. I’m going to be fine.”

Havoc took a long drag on the new cigarette, his long fingers shaking as he held it to his lips. “I am so sorry,” he said, his hair falling in his eyes. 

“It was an accident.” Ed closed his eyes. “I had a serial killer come after me before, you know. I had two sets of armor with souls inside attack me. That shit is scary. This is, you know, inconvenient.” He opened them again to look up at Roy. “Who exactly is on duty now?”

“There are sixty guards on duty now, all of which you hired. Stop worrying about me.” 

Ed felt the rumbling of the driveway beneath his spine as another car pulled up to the Manor. He heard doors open, and shoes scrape against the pavement as they approached him.

“Is he conscious?”

“Yes, dammit, and I can move. Let me up.” 

Al knelt beside him, a hand lightly on his shoulder. “Just stay still a moment, brother.”

Ed acquiesced as Al leaned over him with a penlight. “Ed, stop rolling your eyes at me.” Al flashed his light into Ed’s eyes, making spots swim in his vision. Al spoke quietly to Roy. “His pupils aren’t the same size. He got hit pretty hard.”

“I got hit by a car. I didn’t go suddenly deaf, you idiots.”

Al was unperturbed by his outburst, and continued examining him instead. He pressed his hand along Ed’s right side, and Ed gasped, swearing under his breath.

“That rib’s a little tender. Possibly fractured.” 

“Why don’t you push on it some more and get it nice and broken?” Ed said between gritted teeth. Al ignored him, and listened to Ed’s chest with his stethoscope. “I’m fine, Al. I mean, aside from the bleeding head and all. Just let me up.”

Al’s eyes narrowed at him. “Be quiet and take a deep breath.”

Ed did as requested, and groaned at the pain breathing caused. “Are you done yet?”

“Definitely fractured.” Draping his stethoscope around his neck, Al reached for the towel Roy held against Ed’s temple. He pulled it back, and winced. “It’s pretty deep. It needs stitches.”

“Do we need to do them in the driveway?”

Al looked away to hide his smile. The little brat had gotten cheeky since he got his smile back. “If you’ll let us help you back inside, you can get up.” 

He felt Roy’s hand supporting him as he rose unsteadily to his feet, surprised by the painful rush of blood to his head. Roy, who had remained silent until now, spoke quietly at his shoulder. “Take it slow. I’ve got you.”

Ed submitted, allowing Roy to take his right arm and Al his left. They made a strange, ponderous procession back to the Manor, trailed by Havoc, who had one lit cigarette in his mouth and another in his nicotine-stained fingers. 

Once inside, Ed made his way towards the stairs, but his brother headed him off. “I don’t want you climbing stairs right now. Lay down on the couch.”

“I’m going to bleed all over it,” Ed protested.

“I’ll buy another one. Amestris can afford it.” 

The sitting room off of the main foyer boasted several overstuffed leather armchairs, as well as two sofas and chaise lounge. “Bring him over here,” Al gestured, pointing to the sofa closest to the window, where sunlight framed the cushions. 

Ed lay back, gratefully accepting the pillow Roy placed under his head. His brother pulled a hassock close by, and then fumbled through his bag for supplies. “I need some clean towels and some boiling water.”

Havoc ran to fulfill his request, and Roy stood at Ed’s head, occasionally smoothing back his hair. Al looked over his shoulder at Roy. “Why don’t you go catch up on some paperwork? This won’t take long.”

The Prime Minister raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to leave?”

Even though Al wasn’t seven feet tall anymore, at times it still seemed like it. “Just give us a few minutes.”

Roy hesitated, but backed away after a moment, and Ed gave him a halfhearted wave as he left. 

“Who’s protecting who?” Al said, standing to receive Havoc’s delivery of hot water and towels. After thanking him, he resumed his seat at Ed’s side, lifting the towel from Ed’s wound. 

Ed winced. “I could say the same about you.”

Al sighed, taking out a hypodermic. “Let me numb you up.”

“I hate those fucking things.”

“You’ll be much happier this way, believe me.” Al injected the painkiller, and Ed tried not to squirm. 

“How’s Hawkeye?”

Al smiled, resuming pressure on his wound. “She’s fine. She’s glad to be working with Hughes more often.” 

“Everyone always thinks that working with Hughes will be fun. Ask her again in a few weeks when she ends up dreaming about Alicia every night.”

“Roy looks tired.”

Ed scoffed. “You think?”

“He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.”

“I’m sure me getting hit by a car will be just the thing to mellow him out.”

“He should take a few days off. So should you.”

“He’s Prime Minister. They don’t get vacation time.”

Al lifted the towel, and after sterilizing the needle and thread, he started stitching. “You both need to take better care of yourselves.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “This was an accident, Al.”

“I’m saying in general. You both look like the plague warmed over. If you don’t start getting some decent sleep and food, you’re going to be seeing more of me than you want to.”

“We have our own cook.”

“It only helps if you actually eat.” 

Al worked quickly, and before long he was tying off the final stitch. “Your head’s going to hurt like hell for a few days. You’ve got a concussion, which comes as no surprise. And sadly, even though you need the rest, someone needs to stay with you and wake you every hour.” After bandaging the wound, he put away his supplies, and came back with a bottle of pills. “These will help with the pain, but you must take them with food, and no more than two at a time. They’re going to make you a little fuzzy, so no stairs.” Al dropped his voice. “And no sex.”

“What?” Ed grinned wickedly. “I didn’t hear that last part.”

Al looked up, flushing. “I said no sex.”

“I just got hit by a car, Al. You think I’m going to want to have sex?”

Al shook his head. “How could I at any given moment have any idea what it is you’re going to want to do?”

“Point taken.”

*** 

Ed slumped against Roy, his head lolling. “Al said no stairs.”

“He meant you shouldn’t climb them. He didn’t say anything about moving you.” Roy carried him down the corridor towards the Autumn suite, which was tonight’s bedroom of choice. Using his hip to push the door open, Roy crossed the large chamber, and lay Ed down on the duvet. 

Ed smiled up at him. “You’re very strong.”

Roy snorted, sitting beside him. “How many of those pills did you take?” 

“Also, your hair smells nice.”

“Okay.”

The warm air of the room felt comforting on the bare skin of his chest. Closing his eyes, Ed fingered the fabric of Roy’s pants, running his hand down his thigh. “You should get some rest.”

“I’m staying up. You have a concussion, remember? I need to wake you up to make sure you don’t lapse into a coma or something.”

“Who does he think I am, Hughes?” Ed laughed, although he wasn’t entirely sure what was so amusing. “Al worries too much.”

“I think he worries an appropriate amount considering you cracked your head open.” Roy reached out to touch Ed’s hair, but pulled his hand back, resting it on Ed’s shoulder instead. “He’ll be back first thing in the morning to check on you.”

“I’ve been hurt before a lot worse than this.” The fingers of his left hand strayed to the small, round scar on his chest. 

“He’s just being careful.” Roy stroked his automail arm, linking their fingers together. “How are you feeling?”

The medicine made everything seem just a little bit funny, and made his body feel weightless. “Really weird. Really good.” He looked up at Roy, finding it slightly more difficult to focus. “Know what Al said?”

“What?”

“He said we shouldn’t have sex.” Ed burst out laughing. “He’s crazy.” 

Roy shook his head, and stopped Ed’s hand from touching his thigh. “Let’s just relax tonight so you can get better.”

Ed stuck out his tongue. “Killjoy.”

Sighing, Roy stood, taking off his pants and jacket, leaving his boxers on beneath his dress shirt. His tie was long gone, and Ed stared at the pale skin at his collarbone peeking through his unbuttoned shirt. “Are you hungry?”

Ed sprawled back against the pillows, careful not to put pressure on his stitches. “Not really.”

“Al said you should eat with that medicine.”

“Al said that you looked like shit.” Ed snickered, feeling pleasantly drifty. 

Roy ignored him, picking up the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Ed shouted.

“Shh. I’m calling down to the kitchen.”

Ed gestured at him wildly. “Tell them to send up wine!”

“You can’t mix alcohol with those pills.”

Ed scowled. “Beer then.”

Roy tried to hide his smile, but Ed got the distinct impression he was laughing at him. “You don’t even like beer.”

“Yes, but how else will I get you drunk?” 

Roy dialed the number. “How about some actual food?”

“Fine. Pot roast. Or maybe some cake.”

Roy turned around, speaking quietly into the receiver so Ed couldn’t hear. “I said, some cake!” he yelled, hoping the waitstaff would hear him.

Roy hung up the phone. “They’re out of cake. They’re sending up some pie.”

“I guess that’s something.” 

Resuming his seat beside Ed, Roy reached out, smoothing his fingertips against the inside of Ed’s left arm. The feeling was hypnotic, and it raised gooseflesh on Ed’s skin. “You can sleep, you know. I’ll wake you when the food gets here.”

The pills made him lethargic, but not exactly sleepy, and Ed shook his head. “Nah. I’ll sleep later.”

They fell silent for a minute, and Roy lay down beside him, kissing the inside of Ed’s forearm. Ed smiled. “That was a strange place for that.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just don’t kiss the bruised or bloody bits and you won’t.”

Roy propped himself up on his elbow, watching him. “Even with the pills, you’re still breathing shallow.”

Ed rubbed his eyes to keep from rolling them. “Please don’t turn into my brother. Because that would be gross, first of all, and second of all, kind of annoying right now.”

“I’m saying you’re still in pain.”

“Until they invent alchemy that knits bones back together, it’s going to hurt.” Ed turned stiffly onto his side, gesturing at the back of his head. “Do something useful and fix this, would you?”

Roy used his fingers to comb the knots from Ed’s hair, and then braided it back into place. “I’d been thinking that it would be nice to spend some time together. This wasn’t exactly what I pictured, though.”

“Did Al tell you how long I’d be down?” The question had resurfaced several times in his mind, but this was the first time he’d had the wherewithal to say the words aloud, thanks to the drugs running through him.

“He said he’d talk about it with you in the morning.”

Ed turned back over, staring up at Roy. “What did he tell you?”

“Just relax. You’re going to be fine.” Roy’s eyes were dark, smudged with sleeplessness.

“That’s not what I asked!” Ed’s breathing grew more labored as his anxiety increased. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Roy smoothed a hand over his shoulder. “Calm down. Take a deep breath.”

Ed felt the twin washes of painkiller and anger surge through his blood, and his body didn’t know whether to fight back or quiet down. He forced his breath to slow, panting as he stared back at Roy. “I’m okay,” he said, “Now tell me what he said.” 

Roy waited until Ed’s chest had fallen into a more regular rhythm. “This isn’t your first concussion. You’ve had at least one before.”

“Exactly. This is why it’s not a big deal.”

“With every one you have, the chances of a permanent injury grow. This is a very dangerous line of work, and—“

“Roy.”

“What?”

“Do I have brain damage?”

Roy looked flustered. “Al doesn’t think so—“

“Do you?”

Now Roy looked confused. “What?”

“I get it. Getting hit in the head too many times isn’t good for you. I’m glad I spent all those years in medical school.” He sighed. “I know this is dangerous. So is your job. But you chose it, and I chose mine.”

“No, you didn’t. I hired you.”

“And I said yes. And nothing has changed.”

“Except you’re hurt. Again.”

“And you’re not. So I get a gold star.”

Roy took a long breath. “Al said you’re going to be fine. Your head will be okay in a few days, but the ribs will take awhile.”

Ed eyed him carefully. “What don’t you want to tell me?”

Roy looked surprised, but his slumped shoulders were enough to indicate Ed was finally getting to the truth. “Al thinks you need backup.”

“Until I get better?”

“More permanent than that.”

“If you or Hughes thought I needed backup, I would have had backup from day one.” Ed crossed his arms over his chest, and then winced when he pressed too hard on his rib. 

A guilty look spread across Roy’s face. “Hughes wanted you to. I convinced him otherwise, but I was wrong.”

“The only reason I’m good at my job is because I get to make the calls. If you add another person, it’s just going to fuck it up!”

“I said backup, not replacement. You’re still in control. This person would have to answer to you. It would, however, be a good idea to take this person’s input into consideration, considering how much experience this person has.”

Ed narrowed his gaze. “You’ve already hired someone.”

“There is a potential job offer, yes.”

Snorting, Ed threw up his hands. “Well, it looks like one Elric brother got his way today, but it sure as hell isn’t me.”

“That’s one way to look at it. It does affect you both, however.”

Beyond the haze of medicine, a light bulb glimmered in the back of Ed’s mind. “Oh my God.” His expression turned from confusion to bewilderment. “Hawkeye?”

Roy shrugged. “Only if she says yes.”

Hawkeye had protected Roy long before Ed came along, and she’d put her life at stake more than once for Ed and Al both. She was cunning, vigilant, observant, and not a little scary at times. If Ed was honest, he had wondered when Roy offered him the job why hadn’t given it to Hawkeye instead.

A question lingered in Roy’s eyes. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

Ed shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

“You have to understand it has nothing to do with competence. It’s everything to do with logistics.” Roy’s hand touched the place where his automail arm met flesh. “What I’ve asked you to do is impossible. You never get a moment’s relief. And it’s not just the physical danger.” He paused, taking a long breath. “There’s a breaking point for every man, and I’m pushing you closer to it.”

Ed’s mouth became a hard smile. “The last ten years of my life didn’t break me. A few bullets and Havoc’s bad driving aren’t going to do the job.”

“It’s about what you deserve, Ed,” Roy said, his voice growing soft, and Ed leaned forward just to hear the sound linger for a moment longer. “About what you’re owed.”

Ed shook his head, a chuckle catching in his throat. “Equivalent exchange, Mr. Prime Minister? That’s a fallacy.”

“You’re twisting my words.”

“Get used to it. The newspapers are brutal that way.”

 

“Ed.” Roy reached out, brushing calloused fingers across his cheeks. “You haven’t gone a single day of your adult life without looking over your shoulder.”

“That’s usually where shit comes from.”

He held a finger to Ed’s lips. “Life under Bradley was all about fear and control. It doesn’t have to be like that anymore. You shouldn’t have to wake up in a blind panic.”

Ed pushed his hand away gently. “That’s not how it is.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Fine. It’s not how it is every day.”

Roy ran his hands through his hair, making the ends stick up around the crown of his head. “It’s about a moment of peace. That’s what I wish for you. That’s what I’m trying to offer you. A moment when it all doesn’t fall on you.” He leaned in and kissed Ed, his lips open and gentle, his hands cautious as he cupped the back of his neck.

 

Ed let Roy kiss him, responding just enough to keep the sensation going for as long as possible. “If you don’t get to have the same moment of peace I do, it’s not really so peaceful.”

Roy gave him a tired smile. “Just tell me you’ll try having Hawkeye around on a trial basis. It may not be as bad as you think.”

“You waited until I was drugged on purpose, didn’t you?” Ed sighed, stroking back Roy’s hair from his forehead. “As long as we’re talking a trial basis.”

A knock startled them both, and Roy rose to answer it. A silver cart appeared, and Roy pushed it across the room, looking a bit like the help in a state of undress.

Nearly ten different dishes, each covered by a domed lid, filled the various shelves of the dinner cart. Roy peeked sheepishly beneath them. “I never should order when I’m hungry.”

He lifted the first two lids, steam wafting up to encircle his face. “Ah, an excellent choice, sir. Peach pie and shrimp cocktail complement each other perfectly.”

Ed pulled a face. “Shrimp cocktail?”

Roy grabbed one by the tail and took it in his mouth, smiling around it. “It’s comfort food.”

“For you, maybe. What’s next? A giant glass of ice cold milk?”

Roy licked his fingers, and proceeded to lift more lids. “Hmm…chicken soup, spaghetti, and what’s this? Chocolate cake?”

“You said they were out of cake.”

“I guess that’s the perk of being Prime Minister. You ask for cake, they find cake.” He picked up a fork and sat down beside Ed. “You should probably be eating something healthy.”

Ed snatched up the fork, taking a mouthful. “There are eggs in this. Protein.” The sugar burst on his tongue, and he groaned. “Oh my God. It’s so freaking good.”

Roy wiped a smear of chocolate from his lip, and then sucked it off his finger. Ed narrowed his eyes at him. “Stop being a suggestive bastard. I’m not well.”

He grinned back, unrepentant. “I am a suggestive bastard. All heads of state are.” He got off the bed and poked around the plates, returning with a bowl and spoon. “Cake is all well and good, but it pales in comparison to this.”

Ed sniffed. “That’s oatmeal.”

“Exactly.” Roy sighed in contentment. 

“You love oatmeal?”

“I do.”

“Roy Mustang and oatmeal. They go together like automatic weapons and small children.” Ed shook his head. “You are a study in contradictions.”

Roy crossed his bare legs, cupping the bowl in his lap as he ate. He looked like poor university student who couldn’t afford to buy himself a real dinner. 

“You want anything else besides cake?”

Ed put the fork aside, smiling. “Nope.” He patted his stomach, closing his eyes. “I haven’t done myself a permanent injury. Just let me sleep.”

“Yeah. That might happen.”

***  
“Ed. Ed. Wake up.” 

“Edward Elric.”

Awareness forced itself upon his mind, and Ed opened one bleary eye. He groaned, pushing away Roy away. “Dammit, I just fell asleep.”

“You’ve been asleep for over an hour.” Roy’s voice was soft in the darkness, his body warm against Ed’s.

“What is this, like the tenth time you woke me up?”

“Fourth.”

“Don’t you think by now if my brain was fried you’d know? Is it really necessary to annoy the hell out of me all night?”

“I’m just doing what Al told me to.”

“Tomorrow night, I’m going to sleep, but the night after that, I’m calling him every hour. See how he likes it.” Ed sighed, resting a hand against his throbbing head. “Can I take something else?”

Warm fingers stroked his flesh shoulder. “You have two more hours to go before your next dose. I’m sorry.”

Ed yawned, grimacing as it pulled on his stitches. “How is it possible that you can lay here in the dark and not fall asleep?” He moved closer to Roy, resting his aching head on his chest.

“I’ve stayed awake all night for many less noble causes than keeping watch over you, believe me.” Roy’s voice rumbled beneath Ed’s ear, blending with the steady cadence of his heartbeat. “It’s nice to be with you.”

It was always these kinds of small moments that took away Ed’s sense of gravity, and Roy, for all his blustering and smug expression, could sometimes capture the essence of his own feelings with such utter simplicity that it left Ed speechless. Roy was like the fire he tamed; he could warm and light a room on his own, or burn the whole damn house down if he chose. Yet he lay beside Ed now, his fingertips cataloguing Ed’s pain, his ears tuned to the smallest shift in Ed’s breathing. It was a powerful thing to know he could command more attention from Roy than the entirety of Amestris. 

“I think this time you should let yourself fall asleep. You need it as much as I do.” 

“I think,” Roy said, “you are entitled to your opinions, even if they’re wrong.”

“If you’re not going to, at least let me sleep. Give me three hours.”

“This isn’t Bargaining Games at Two a.m. with Roy Mustang.”

“Two, then.”

“Every hour is pretty straightforward.”

Ed laughed a little. “You a big rules man? Since when? Come on. Two.”

He could feel Roy’s smile, though he couldn’t see it. “I can see why we didn’t choose a diplomacy track for you.”

“Yeah, I’m not really the ass-kissing sort.”

“I can think of one exception.”

“I knew you were going to say that. You’re really not very clever. Don’t let the public convince you otherwise.”

Roy winced. “Oh, you know, I was going to say I’d give you two hours, but now you’ve called my cleverness into question, so that offer’s off the table.”

Ed stroked Roy’s stomach with a sigh. “Fine. You’re clever. An hour and a half.”

“It was an admirable try, Fullmetal, but you’re one vote down.” 

If he hadn’t felt so much like a car had run into him, he would have argued his point, but one of the secrets to loving Roy Mustang was that now and then the man had to win or he just got twitchy and despondent. “Could you please not shout in my ear next time?”

“I’ll do my part, as long as you do yours and wake up.”

“Agreed.”

Ed closed his eyes and waited for sleep to return. The Autumn suite was quiet, save for the sounds of Roy’s gentle breathing and the far-off purr of a cat exiled to the hallway.


End file.
